Geniuses are human
by Insarai Arys
Summary: A genius who is revered for their knowledge and loathed for their 'abnormalities'. Spencer Reid is such a man. With three pHDs under his belt, he is an outcast. A new member of the team is going to change that......
1. Prologue

**Screaming, choking drowning. Caught in the nightmare from hell, the man writhes and twists, begging for help. He runs, through trees and bushes. He slips, he falls. Scrambling upright he moans as he hears the crashing of his pursuer. He feels a pain in his chest and a noise like a small cough. Run, he utters to himself but his body will no longer obey.**

**His pursuer is beside him. "No" He moans, the darkness already upon him, blinding his sight. He falls, falls into the darkness that cradles him in soft peace. He tries to stay awake but it's too much. He falls, and as he falls, his breath fades, his heart slows and his eyes close for the last time. He passes from this life into the next but the only person to witness this sad occurrence is the man who committed the dreadful act. **

* * *

**Fate is cruel like that; you last moments on this planet and none of the people you know and love are there to witness you. **

**Fate knows no dignity, honour or truth. Luck has nothing to with it either. Rich or poor, black or white, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist or New Age, you have no choice on how and where you will meet you end. **

**Fate makes no promises. You cannot sell your soul, pay with gold or coin. You cannot beg, bargain or threaten with fate. It has no conscience, no sense of right and wrong. It cannot be force to act or not to act. **

**But fate occasionally changes a single humans life to rectify a wrong. **

**Spencer Reid's life was one of the few that Fate chose intervene with. **

**How, I hear you ask? By throwing in a second genius but one with a secret agenda toward Spencer Reid. **


	2. Spencer's Story of Sorrow

Pain. It's the first thing the boy knows from school. Not the pain of wounds or the pain of bruises but the pain of the Outsiders.

Pain was the first lesson the boy learnt from school. The second was fear. The fear every genius knows is the second lesson learnt by the child-prodigy.

The third was the one lesson that no child should learn and it befalls only the prodigies, the ones who are the most venerable. The lesson is the one of survival through dreams.

No child should learn any one of these lessons but this child learnt all three within three months of joining the public school system in high school, aged just nine years old.

Bullied, beaten and alone this child was a unique child. He learnt to live in his dreams, to divorce himself from pain and humiliation.

He was the perfect target for all bullies: small, thin and friendless. No friends ever came to his rescue, no teacher ever picked him up and his family did not soothe and tend to his wounds, whether physical, emotional or mental.

He learnt that he could trust himself, that everyone else lied, even those who were meant to protect him; Especially those who were meant to protect him.

He cared for his mother, all through his school career. Only he knew about the bruises that she inflicted upon his body, the burns she forced upon him. No one else knew the pain and humiliation he suffered at her hands. They could never know because then he would never be allowed to retreat into his own world, never be allowed to retreat into the world which he created and maintained on his own.

When his mother was committed he was abandoned and left to survive alone. He grew up poor and friendless, with few change to his life.

Just as he was bullied in high school which he graduated at twelve, he was bullied in college, which he entered aged just thirteen.

The only difference between the two types was the bullies got smarter, the bullies learnt to find his weak spot, his Achilles heel so to speak. Instead of fists and stuffing him in lockers, the bullies used words: cruel, evil words that he never forgot, words that made him burn with righteous rage, words that flew thick and fast at him, in corridors, in lectures and seminars, in the canteens and the bathrooms. Words that cut deep into his soul, deep into his heart. But it never showed, not in his mannerisms, not in his work. But his eyes showed the true effect of the words, the cruel insults thrown at him, the brutal torturous lies, they all wounded him and his eyes became pain filled and infinitesimally sad.

He completed his time at college which felt more like a prison sentence, and he graduated age fifteen with a PhD in law and criminology. The boy, fast approaching manhood, went back to college and received two more PhD's in psychology and in criminal psychology and physiology at sixteen and nineteen respectively.

Aged twenty-two he got a job with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU), under Aaron Hotchener and James Gideon.

He was born a genius and he will die a genius. What happens in between is a story I shall now tell you.


	3. Coffee, running and phone calls

His hands are covered in blood; his mouth is full of it. He can smell it in the air; it is rank and foul.

He spins around and is confronted with a sight so foul; he is almost physically repelled from the scene. He sees a woman, lying on a bed, he flesh mutilated and desecrated beyond human comprehension. He eyes are closed, but her hands clench as her finger break and shatter with the movement. The man runs forward to help her. He bends over her and tries to reassure her.

Then she opens her eyes and he begins to scream. He screams and screams and stumbles away from the bed, hands reaching out behind him in a futile attempt to escape. Suddenly, he feels himself fall and he screams as he falls into the pit of oblivion...

Spencer Reid shot bolt upright, panting and sweating. His hands reaching for the gun which normally rests on his hip, grasp at nothing. He unravelled the sheets from where they were wrapped around his legs and torso, still breathing heavily from his screaming.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Spencer rested his head on his hands, elbows on his knees. It was only the second nightmare that month but it was totally unlike any other nightmare he had ever had before.

Shaking his head, Spencer stood and stretched, before moving off to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. Turning the shower on high heat, Spencer stripped and stepped into the steaming jet of water, allowing the heat to massage away the bad dream.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in a shirt, trousers and one of his vests, Spencer was standing in front of his coffee machine waiting for the precious brown liquid to fill his cup. He picked up a book on Radical Theories in Political History and waited for his coffee. Five minutes and one beautiful cup of coffee later, Spencer was grabbing coat, revolver, laptop and car keys and banging the door shut.

He jogged through the corridor and took the stairs three at a time. Long legs were good for something he mused, as he sprinted down the stairs at breakneck speed. He skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs fifty-four seconds later and slowed down enough to catch his breath. Once he had caught his breath, he walked sedately to his car opened the boot and placed inside his laptop and coat. Spencer closed the boot, opened the driver side door, got in and closed the door.

"Three minutes, ten seconds" he said. Any other person might not have understood this but Reid had been timing himself to see how long it took him to get from his front door, down the stairs, across the underground garage, put his stuff in the boot and got into his car.

He drove to work, the route so well known he didn't look through the windscreen once. About halfway there he got a phone call from Elle.

"Hey" he said once he connected the call.

"Where are you?" Elle shrieked down the phone.

"Umm, in my car on the way to work?" he tried.

"No, you're not here and we have a new case!" she shouted.

"It's not nine o'clock yet Elle!" Spencer reminded her.

"Just hurry up will you?" Elle rang off before he could argue. He looked at the phone wondering what had that been about.

He pulled into the parking lot at the BAU headquarters and located his parking space near the entrance to the building. Getting out of the car, he noted that parked in one of the visitor spaces was a motorcycle that he had never seen before. Fr some reason it gave him a creepy feeling, as if he had seen it somewhere before and should know it. Shrugging it off, he retrieved his belongings from the boot of the car and made his way into the building. Noting the time on his watch, he sighed. Only ten to nine and already a new case. Little did he know, this would be the case of a lifetime.


	4. Greetings Between Geniuses

Hey,

My first author notes of this story and I have a few people to thank;

**mabelreid**

**CatWillow**

**saavik8**

**Bibilein**

**Marie the fallin**

**Handmaiden Dorme**

**Agent Tomato**

**Rikki**

**Anaria**

**Moenchen**

**Reid's Girl**

**Missing Fairy**

**Thanks so much for reviewing, I really appreciate it. I love getting them so please review!!! **

**This is a call to anyone out there:**

**Is there anyone who would consider beta-ing this story? My main concern is the development of the story and characters than the actual spellings and stuff.**

**

* * *

**

**Greetings between** **Geniuses**

Spencer opened the door leading into the briefing room and froze. Inside, sitting on the table, surrounded by files and photos was a woman. She had long red hair, and very white skin. Her hands were long and thin, much like Spencer's own. Her attire however, was vastly different from what was the norm in the BAU office; she wore ragged blue jeans, fraying at the cuffs and with numerous holes and a t-shirt with a slogan in Japanese. On her feet were brand new black and white Converse All Stars.

She looked up at him and smiled "Hi" she said. However, before she could say anything more, Spencer was propelled into the room by his co-work and fellow profiler Derek Morgan. Morgan preceded Elle, JJ, Gideon and Hotch into the briefing room. The un-named woman had since climbed down off the table.

Hotch said "this is Mariyah Alexandovar. She will be working with us on this case due to her knowledge of child-case related profiling,"

Spencer spoke up "The Mariyah Alexandovar? As in, **_the_** Mariyah Alexandovar who profiled over eighty child killers and successfully gave the police the most vital details for their capture? **_The_** first Russian woman to ever lead an international investigation? As in the woman who is rumoured to be the daughter of the head of the Mafia? That Mariyah Alexandovar?"

"Spencer Reid I take it then? Yes, yes, and not telling and yes."

Spencer went absolutely still then snapped out, "Harvard"

"Yale" Mariyah countered.

"Mensa" Spencer said.

"Oxbridge" She replied

"Stamford" Spencer demanded.

"Jeffersonion Institute" She said, her mouth twitching.

"Three" He threw out.

"Five" She threw back

"Philosophy and Criminal physiology" Spencer stated.

"All child related cases, HOD" She uttered, smiling sweetly.

"194 IQ" Spencer said proudly.

"197 IQ" She said, just as proudly.

"Twenty-two years old" He threw in.

"Twenty-one years old" She threw it back at him.

Spencer's mouth dropped open. It was her, the most famous woman in the Genius world. She had been recorded to have the highest living I.Q. and she was the current world chess champion.

The rest of the team however looked bemused. "Umm, what just happened?" Morgan whispered to Elle, who shrugged.

Hotch stood up and began to hand out more folders. Mariyah retrieved the paper work on the table and took a seat between Reid and Gideon.

Once the folders were handed out, Hotch began to speak. "Over the last three weeks, six bodies have been located. They were all found in public places and none of them had been dead more than twelve hours."

"All of them were found were the same clothing and in similar locations. Two in parks, one in a school playground, one on a local soccer pitch and one in a local youth club."

Spencer opened his folder and saw the first victim's photograph. Surrounded by leaves and grass, the child's hair was fanned out over the natural debris.

"Poor girl" Morgan murmured.

"They're not girls," Mariyah muttered. Everyone's heads snapped up as they heard this.

"What?"

"Aside from the fact the autopsy report says he's male, the fact that his legs are too long to be a teenage girl and the fact he is lying in the manner commonly associated with the male death pose in the Christian religion," Mariyah explained, "by dressing them in the white he is given purity, and youth.

"However, by dressing them in female clothing he gives them a female identity. The way the hair is arranged and clothes is classical female as is the fingers." Mariyah explained further, "They're carefully buffed and polished, a manicure any woman would be proud of."

"So by establishing them as women, he is pretending he is more 'normal', less 'perverted'." Morgan clarified.

The team discussed a little longer before Hotch had a phone call.

"Guys the plain is ready, the briefing will be continued there. Take the long-stay bags, the Texan on the end of the line said we'd be there a long time."

The team sighed. When they had to take the long-stay bags, it usually meant five days or more. And that was too long away from home.

Far too long...

* * *

**I love getting reviews so please review! **

**This is a call to anyone out there:**

**Is there anyone who would consider beta-ing this story? My main concern is the development of the story and characters than the actual spellings and stuff. **


	5. A Flight into the Unknown

Hey,

My first author notes of this story and I have a few people to thank;

**mabelreid**

**CatWillow**

**saavik8**

**Bibilein**

**Marie the fallin**

**Handmaiden Dorme**

**Agent Tomato**

**Rikki**

**Anaria**

**Moenchen**

**Reid's Girl**

**Missing Fairy**

**Thanks so much for reviewing, I really appreciate it. I love getting them so please review!!! **

**This is a call to anyone out there:**

**Is there anyone who would consider beta-ing this story? My main concern is the development of the story and characters than the actual spellings and stuff. **

* * *

**A Flight into the Unknown.**

"Why would anyone do this?" Spencer asked Mariyah.

"Murderers, in general, are people who are consistent, people who are obsessed with one idea and nothing else" Mariyah quoted, leaning back on the seat. "Murder is not the crime of criminals, but that of law-abiding citizens."

The plan tilted as the wheels left the runway. "Ugo Betti , Emmanuel Teney" Spencer recited the originators of the quotes with his usual unthinking speech.

The plane tilted as the wheels left the runway. Spencer watched as Mariyah looked around the plane, eyeing up the leather reclining armchairs, the wood tables and numerous appliances which made up the kitchenette. "Nice toy" she had said. It was a tad more than a toy though.

Hotchner sat down in his customary armchair by the window and Gideon beside him. Elle and Morgan on one of the sofas and JJ had taken an armchair. Spencer and Mariyah had chosen a two-seater sofa opposite Elle and Morgan.

"So Mariyah…………" Morgan drawled, "How d'you come to join us the BAU?"

"Flew over from Russia on a plane" she replied sarcastically "No, I worked with the Russian equivalent of the BAU and when the vacancy opened for a child-expert I decided I wanted to help somewhere else in the world and I needed to leave Russia for sometime anyway so I took it."

"What level genius are you?" Spencer asked.

"Nineteen" She replied "I'm an indigo child, you?"

"Same" Spencer said, "Would you mind going over this with me. I want to see whether what I think is right or whether I am misinterpreting the scene."

"Okay" she said, reaching across him to grab a pen.

"Right, here..." Spencer said, pulling out the photo's, "The victims all share a single trait when it comes to appearance; their androgynous appearance but they share nothing else. They come from different backgrounds, have different social circles and they have different interests. There is no connection between them beyond their physical qualities."

Mariyah leaned back on her seat and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "One swimmer aged 17, one gymnast aged 16, one no-worker aged 12, one shop worker aged 13, a busboy aged 14 and an actor aged 15. No connections, no common ground other than school and there the trail ends."

"Well………" Spencer promoted.

"Where the trail is lost, then we back track until we find it. And we work on from there." She said "I think we should treat them as individual cases. Identify each point of interest then cross reference it with the others."

"But there are no similarities!" Morgan objected.

"Then the only connection is there is no connection. For some reason these boys were selected out of nearly one thousand boys and killed. Something about them makes them tempting to their killer. Something about them is different from the other boys. What?"

Spencer sat back and stared meditatively into space. If there was no connection then there is that one connection; the fact there is no connection. He mused for nearly twenty minutes, staring blankly into the ceiling, his expression vacant.

Mariyah had spread out the folders on the table in front of her and was writing something down in a notebook. Morgan and Elle were discussing something quietly and Hotchner and Gideon were sitting in silence. JJ was asleep in one of the reclining chairs.

Nine hours later, the plane landed on a dusty Texan airstrip. As the team climbed down the stairs, the heat blasted them. Pulling on a pair of sunglasses, Spencer surveyed the area. Not that there was much to survey. A gray one-story building and a wire topped fence and lots of dust.

Suddenly in the distance a dust cloud appeared and soon enough it was clear the dust cloud concealed three large cars. The drove through the gate and pulled up in front of the team.

"Are you the BAU lot?" A tall black man asked as he got out of the car. He was taller than most men and wore an expensive suit, which stood out against everyone else's casual clothing. The other two drivers stepped out of their cars. One was brown haired and wore jeans and a red shirt and the other was blond, with a blue shirt and jeans.

"Yes" Gideon stepped forward.

"I am Roy Fall, the Chief of Texan State Security. These are my aides, Caling and Jonson. We will brief you on the way over to the town."

The BAU team looked bemused as Roy turned and stepped into his car, slamming the door shut. The two aides took the suitcases from the team and deposited them in the boot of the Chief's car. They got into their own cars and started the engines.

Morgan muttered "Well he seems nice" as he got into the car driven by the brown haired Caling. Elle followed him.

Gideon and Hotch got into the Chief's car and Mariyah and Spencer walked over to the car driven by Jonson.

The three cars performed perfect 3-point turns and were off. Mariyah sat in the front and Spencer in the back. The two spent a few seconds admiring the plush leather interior and the highly polished dials and gadgets then it was all business.

"How were the bodies discovered?" Mariyah asked Jonson.

"By morning joggers or dog walkers who had wandered onto the scene by accident. They were all investigated and they were declared clean."

"Why consider these serial killings?" Spencer inquired pen at the ready.

"Once the first three bodies were discovered we realised we had a serial. We immediately called you guys out and arranged for living accommodations for you."

"Where d'you place the reservations?" Mariyah asked.

"At the Pond and Lake" Jonson said "We could only book sharing rooms though. It is tourists season after all in this little tourist town.

"It's the lake that brings you the fishers isn't it?" Spencer asked.

"Yes it is; how did you know that?" Jonson asked Spencer looking in the back mirror.

"I read a lot," Spencer told him as he gazed out if the window.

An hour later, the three cars pulled up outside a small police station. Spencer and Mariyah climbed out of the car and looked around them. A few shops, a bank, a clinic of some sort and a fast food joint made up the main drag with the police station. Not a particularly impressive town was the thought on everyone's minds.

The Chief walked up the steps and Caling and Jonson ushered everyone behind him.

The race to find the killer was on...

* * *

Yes I know Spencer is actually 25yrs old. I need him to be younger so there! 

**This is a call to anyone out there: **

**Is there anyone who would consider beta-ing this story? My main concern is the development of the story and characters than the actual spellings and stuff. **

**Anyway,**

**Please review!!! **


	6. Of Pins and Problems

Hey!

So sorry this took so long, I had chronic writers-block something awful and I had like a thousand essays to do and like three weeks to do them in.

**IMPORTANT NOTES:**

**TIME CHANGES**

Okay first a note on changes; the time span has changed from three to six weeks. The boys will be kidnapped on the Saturday and killed and dumped the following Friday. The next boy will be taken on the Saturday and dumped and killed on the Friday.

**BETA**

Anyway, about the beta issue; my e-mail account decided to pack up but it is up and running again. If you offered and I didn't reply it's probably because I've not received messages for many weeks and am currently buried up to my next in hundreds of them.

If you offered to be a beta, I would be happy to accept because I need different points of view on what happens. I will then produce a huge chapter with probably most, if not all of the alterations.

If you do that, can you please write BETA after you sign your name? Thanks!

J.J

Review replies are at the bottom.

* * *

As the team walked through the station, they received stares from all the uniformed police officers in the bullpen. The lack of uniforms and their company marked them as outsiders from the start. 

The chief led them down a corridor to the room at the end. Opening the door, he stood aside and let the team through.

The room was large, equipped with the latest computers on six desks, a printer, and a clean but battered coffee machine with cups and a mini-fridge presumably holding milk. On the wall was a map of the town and the surrounding area. Beneath it was a box of coloured pins. In one corner was a white board with a box of pens beneath it. The views out of the windows were particularly uninspiring; a view over the desert and a view into the courtyard behind the police station. This was to be their command post for the duration of the case.

Morgan sat down at the nearest desk and picked up one of the six files on the desk. Nearly two inches thick, it was the file of the first victim; everything from school records to the witness statement. Each table had the same files.

Elle, Hotch and Gideon sat down at three of the desks. JJ turned to the Chief and asked, "Have the media been alerted yet?"

"Not yet" He told her "but we can have them here as soon as you need them"

Spencer drifted over to the map and picked up the box of pins. He and Mariyah began placing them on the map at different points.

The chief said "I apologise but I must leave you now" He strode out of the room and his two aides were left scurrying in his wake.

"Nice man" Mariyah stepping back and studying the map. Everyone turned and looked at it.

"The red indicates where the bodies disappeared from. The blue is where they were found." Spencer told them, pointing to the relevant pins.

Mariyah took over, "The green pins are the residences and the white are the work places of the victims. The black pin is the school."

The other five members stared at the board, committing it to memory. Then Hotch stood up and said, "Alright, Morgan you have the first victim, Elle the second, Gideon you have the third, I have the fourth and Spencer and Mariyah you two have the fifth and the sixth. Cross-reference everything and anything; favourite, restaurants clubs and teams, favourite band, anything."

Four hours later, it was hot in the room and tempers were hotter. Suddenly, Morgan slammed down the folder in his hands. Mariyah and Spencer looked up from their shared desk and Hotchner, Elle and Gideon looked up from their work places. JJ spun around from where she was talking to one of the uniforms from the bullpen. Morgan muttered an apology and picked up the folder again.

An hour later, Mariyah stood up, stretched and yawned. "That's it," she said, throwing down her pen, "I'm hungry, I'm tired and my hand is killing me. Am I the only one who wants a hot meal, a shower and a bed?"

Everyone grinned and agreed vigorously. "I guess we can't learn anymore tonight," Hotch said yawning.

The files were placed in the filing cabinets so thoughtfully provided for them, meticulously taken notes went into briefcases and in no time at all, the lights were turned off and Hotch had locked the door and followed the team out.

They ate the restaurant of the Pond and Lake, The food was hot, the wine kept coming and the atmosphere made for good conversation.

Soon the meal was over and the bill and tip paid. The team made their way over to the front desk in the foyer. The receptionist was a tall woman with fake blonde hair and an even faker smile.

"My name is Janna and how may I help you?" She asked them, her expression bored.

"We have reservations here," Hotch told her.

"By what name?" She asked

"BAU staff" Hotch said.

"I have your reservations right here," The receptionist intoned, "A. Hotchner, J. Gideon and D. Morgan are sharing. "J, Jareau and E. Greenway are also sharing and S. Reid and M. Alexandrovar are sharing."

"That's not possible." Gideon stepped forward. "Reid and Mariyah can't share."

"Look" the receptionist told them "I just work here, I don't take the reservations. If you got a complaint, take it to the manager, 'cause I don't do problems. It's hotel policy to assign rooms and we can't change them."

"Spencer, are you going to jump me in the night?" Mariyah asked Spencer.

"What?" Spencer couldn't believe his ears. Had she seriously asked whether he was going to try and do something to her in the night?!

"I'll take that as a no then. Can I have my room key please?" Mariyah asked sweetly.

She took the key in one hand and her suitcase in the other. "Coming?" She asked a still spluttering Spencer.

Gideon and Elle took their keys and shoved Spencer into motion. He hurried to catch up to Mariyah who was entering the lift. The rest of the team caught up as well and they all crowded into the lift.

"Are you sure you're alright sharing?" Elle asked.

"Trust me, I'll be fine." Mariyah reassured her, "And if he tries anything, I've got these" from the small of her back and her ankle she produced two FBI issue guns, "I'd be more worried about Spencer," She whispered to Elle. Elle laughed and turned away, her mind at rest. Spencer however was not so happy, eyeing the guns with a wary look. "Relax," Mariyah told him, replacing the guns "I'm not going to shoot you."

When the lift finally got to the fifth floor, the team got off pulling suitcases behind them. The team all had rooms next to each other. Mariyah and Spencer in the middle and the others to the left and right.

"Oh dear," Mariyah said as the door swung open.

"What?," Spencer asked from behind her, "What – Oh."

Morgan came up behind Spencer when he heard Mariyah's "Oh dear". Mariyah and Spencer walked into the room and Morgan laughed. It attracted the others and pretty soon the whole team apart from Mariyah and Spencer were laughing, clutching onto furniture and door frames.

The reason they were all laughing was because of the room Mariyah and Spencer had. They had landed themselves the Honeymoon suite complete with chocolate covered strawberries and a CD player with romantic music. There was only one bed.

"Oh, bags I the bed!" Mariyah said throwing her bag on the bed.

"So where am I meant to sleep?" Spencer inquired. Mariyah thought for a moment and pointed to the door with Bathroom written on it in broad cursive writing.

"No way am I sleeping in the bath!" Spencer stated flatly. Mariyah pointed to the door labelled Linen. Spencer glared at her.

She said contritely, "Well it was only a suggestion! I guess we're going to have to share the bed,"

Spencer spluttered, "But – What – I – What?"

"Well it's a king size, you won't fit on the sofa and I ain't breaking my back on it"

Morgan clapped Spencer on the shoulder, "Well done," He said between fits of laughter "You've not known her twenty four hours and you've already getting into bed with her!"

He left with the others, still giggling madly into their own rooms. Spencer shut the door and put his bag down on the floor. Well it could have been worse, he thought, it could have been Gideon he had to share with.

Mariyah had opened the door labeled Bathroom and was standing in the doorway. Spencer walked behind her and looked over her shoulder. And he stared too.

The bathroom was amazing. Done in blue and green tiles, the Jacuzzi bath (big enough for two) complemented the double shower. A toilet, commode and a heated towel rack were along one wall and along another wall was the classic 'His' and 'Her' style sinks in green marble and silver taps. Free shower gels and shampoos surrounded the sinks. The bathroom was why people came to the Pond and Lake Hotel.

Mariyah and Spencer unpacked their suitcases and divided up the wardrobe into two. The drawers in the dressers went the same way and so did the shower shelves and the bathroom cabinets with Spencer's shaving stuff and Mariyah's make-up.

All too soon though, it was eleven o'clock, everything was put away, and nothing else could be done. They stood on each side of the bed, Mariyah wearing an extra-large t-shirt emblazoned with 'I luv Morning Musume' and short-shorts, Spencer in a pair of boxers and a Star-Trek t-shirt.

"Are you a blanket hog?" Mariyah asked.

"No." Spencer said his eyebrow up.

"Good, 'cause I freeze easily." Mariyah informed him, lifting the duvet up.

They climbed into bed all the while being careful to never allow a finger to slip over that invisible line down the middle of the bed.

Soon, they were asleep and dreaming. Oddly enough those dreams were absent of the horrific images they had been studying since ten past nine that morning.

* * *

Me Again! 

**Archer14:** He is indeed very interesting to write about. Thanks for reviewing and keep watching the show.

**Inu Youkai Yume:** Thanks for reviewing and Reid is my favourite character too! He's so different from the other characters, what with him being a genius and all. And he's the most fun to play with...

**Mabelreid:** Thanks for reviewing and I thought the reading thing was just too much of a temptation not to put in.

**Handmaiden Dorme A.K.A** _The person with the email addresses from hell: _No offence intended I don't think Hotmail likes your accounts so I have a theory of how to get around things; I post the chapter on the site and you copy and paste it to a word document. Then you email it to me and I read the comments make the changes and reply to you. Let's see whether that works. And if it doesn't then we'll think of something else.

**Savvik8:** Thanks for reviewing, I have a question for you. Umm...did I already agree to make you a beta because I am so disorganised I can't remember. Although saying that, at the moment I can't remember my own name. No sleep and living on caffeine will do that to you. Anyway, if you did, I am so sorry for this but if I didn't then I would be happy to accept so long as you are willing to share on this.

Thank you everyone who reviewed and everyone who offered to be a beta. I will get around to everyone and I will get things back on track. I promise.

**The sharing-a-bed thing is an important plot device. A little cliché though it will become useful in later chapters!**

And once again please review!

**_J.J_**


	7. Of Drama and Dilemma

**Hey, **

**Here's chapter 7 which I know you have all been waiting for. I have a confession to make. I got my new computer but it doesn't have Microsoft Office or even Word so I'm writing this on WordPad which doesn't even have spell check. I've been through it as much as I can and corrected any mistakes but if you find any, stick them in a review and I'll correct them. **

**Okay, about this chapter:**

**It's more of a I'm-trying-to-build-up-suspence kind of chapter and it kind of gives some information about Mariyah. I will do more if you ask me to in alter chapter. Umm... It's mostly to set the scene between Mariyah and Spencer to make room for the kind of stuff I'm adding in later. Oh and by the way, the first bit is based on a real life experiance. **

**(The kidnapping dates and stuff like that is also posted on my profile if it's too hard to read here. )**

**Reviews replys are as always on the bottom of the chapter. And please reveiw.**

**And on with the story... **

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Of Drama and Dilemma**

**Rolling over, Spencer prised one eye open in order to snatch a glimpse of the clock. The clock in question revealed it was seven minutes past six in the morning. Far too early, he decided and rolled over. Right onto something squishy, and sweetly smelling. Something that shouldn't be there. **

"**Umm... Spencer?" A voice came right beside his ear.**

**He shot upright from horizontal to vertical in less than a second. Looking around wildly, he looked down and saw a gorgeous redhead in his bed wearing what looked to be only a t-shirt. He wondered just how much he had had to drink last night and whether it had not yet worn off. After all, he had never in all living memory awoken in another's bed. Not even as a child. **

"**Spencer?" The woman asked.**

**And it all came rushing back to him. The victims and the unsub and the dinner. The accident with the rooms, the horrible receptionist, Morgan's jokes, and the team's laughter.**

**He sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling slightly woozy. He was relieved that he hadn't slept with Mariyah, he was practically elated even. Though a small part of his mind he never even knew existed suddenly made itself known when he found himself wishing that he had slept with Mariyah. He quickly suppressed it, hoping that Mariyah had not noticed. **

"**Spence?" She asked, one hand reaching out to touch him. He backed away, and then in all his magnificent wisdom, fell off the edge of the bed.**

**From his now significantly lower position, Spencer heard Mariyah laughing before he saw a small white hand emerge from the edge of the bed and pro-offer itself to him. He grasped it in his larger hand and nearly flew upright from the force of Mariyah's pull. He stood, his head swimming. **

"**How did you do that?" He asked, confused.**

"**Physics." She said getting up stretching. Spencer tried hard not to look at her chest as she raised her arms. He breathed slowly and evenly as he regained control over both his brain and _certain_ parts of his anatomy. **

**When he was sure that Mariyah was_ not_ going to be seeing anything personal, he opened his eyes and found himself staring into a pair of deep green eyes, complete with concerned expression.**

**And for the second time as many minutes he fell off the edge of the bed. From his now familiar position on the floor, Spencer heard Mariyah laughing before offering her hand to him again. She pulled him back onto the bed and climbed off of it. **

**She stretched and yawned widely as she strolled over to the chest of drawers and bent over to get into the bottom drawer. Spencer closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He had never felt this feeling before but he was sure he could get used to it. **

**"I'm just going to leap into the shower now, okay?" Mariyah asked from the doorway, her arms full of clothing. Spencer nodded, his mind a million miles away. **

**When Spencer heard the shower start to run he leaned back onto the pillows and sighed. He had never been out on a date because he had never felt the need. And, he thought, he had never been popular in high school and he was too young to date there. And when he had been old enough to think about dating he was halfway through college and was under too much pressure to even contemplate it. **

**But now? One look from those beautiful deep green eyes could send him reeling, one breath of the sweet scent sent him into a blissful day dream, and one glance at that perfect body could send him to Niravana on the express train.**

**It wasn't fair, he decided, just when he had friends and he could finally enjoy life as a normal human, Mariyah came along and made him feel emotions he had buried a long time ago so he wouldn't be distracted from his work. But she was a good distraction wasn't she? Spencer thought as he heard the water turn off and the hairdryer turn on. **

**He got up and stretched, feeling very much more awake than before. He found an outfit in the drawers and put it on the bed. The door to the bathroom opened but he didn't turn around. "I'm out," Mariyah announced. Thanking her, Spencer walked into the bathroom without seeing her, his mind once more a million miles away. This time, though, on much a less pleasant subject: the case. **

**He went over what the team knew in his mind as he stepped under the hot stream of water. **

**They knew the killer worked to a strict time line: **

**_May 12th – First victim is taken from the parking lot outside the local gas station. _**

**_May 18th – First victim found in the local park by a woman walking her dog. _**

**_May 19th – Second victim is taken from the street outside his home. _**

**_May 25th – Second victim is found in the local park._**

**_May 26th – Third victim is taken from the local supermarket. _**

**_May 31th – Third victim found on the local soccer pitch by male jogger. _**

**_June 1st – Fourth victim taken from the parking lot at the school from an afterschool revison session._**

**_June 7th – Fourth victim found at the local youth club by a social worker. _**

_**June 8th - Fifth victim taken from a street on the way to school for a soccer practise.**_

_**June 14th - Fifth victim found in a side street off the main drag.**_

_**June 15th - Sixth victim kidnapped from a road on his way home from sc**__**hool. **_

_**June 21st - Sixth victim found dumped in the school court. **_

**No connections there, Spencer thought, though the time line was odd. Kiddnapped on a Saturday, tortured and raped all week, then killed and dumped in the early hours of the sixth day which was always a Friday. Odd. Very odd.**

**Few killers were ever that organised and never escalating. That meant one of two things. Either the killer was sticking to a schedule because it was important in some way to the killer and the spree would end with a specific ritual act of the utmost importance to the killer or the killer was sticking to the schedule because there was no other way to find and kill these boys without raising suspision on himself. **

**Spencer mused further on the case as he turned the shower off and stepped out. He snatched a warm fluffy towel from the heated towel rack and began to dry himself off. Winding the towel around his waist, he stood in front of the sink to shave. **

**As he applied the lather, he went back to the victims. The first victim was a fifteen year old swimmer, the second a soccer player aged thirteen, the third a seventeen year old shop-worker, the fourth a fourteen year old who didn't work but played the violin to a master level, the fifth sixteen years old and a running champion and the sixth an actor eho was twelve. **

**Three up-and-coming sporting stars, one manual labourer, one talented actor, one brilliant musican and no connection at all. As Spencer brushed his teeth, he contemplated what Mariyah had said about backtracking until they found a connection. But there was no connection, he reminded himself. **

**Spencer dressed on auto-pilot, his mind still on the case. One last comb through of his hair and he was ready.**

**He threw his dirty clothes in the hamper and opened the door. Dressed in another pair of jeans and a deep red shirt with a grey blazer, Mariyah was standing by the window, looking out over the town. He went and stood behind her, admiring the view. The suite had a direct view over the gardens behind the building and they were amazing. Explosions of colour and sparkling fountains sprinkled across a vibrant green lawn made for an impressive viewing. **

**A knock at the door brought them both out of their daydreams. Mariyah went to answer and Spencer picked up the pair of briefcases on the table. His an old battered leather satchel, hers a smart elegant black leather briefcase.**

**A Italian looking waiter, dressed in a old fashioned English waiter outfit, stood outside the door, pushing a cart covered with silver platters with silver lids. He pushed it into the room and began to place each dish on the table on the table after covering it with a snowy white table cloth and laying places with sliver cutlery. **

**"Was your night satisfactory, Sir?" the waiter inquired. **

**"Yes it was fine, thank you" Spencer replied. **

**"If you don't me asking, who ordered this?" Mariyah asked, her face confused. **

**"It's part of the Honeymoon Suite package, Madam. A hot breakfast every morning at no extra cost, free wines, champagne and chocolates and free evening meals delivered if ordered." He informed them, placing a pitcher of orange juice on the table.**

**"What's your name?" Spencer asked. **

**"Lizao" He told them. **

**"Thank you, Lizao," Mariyah said, placing a five dollar tip in his hand. **

**"No, thank _you_ Madame." He smiled as he closed the door behind him. **

**"Well I didn't expect that but I could really get used to this." Spencer said as he picked up the nearest lid, "Bacon and sausages"**

**Mariyah picked up another one to find scrambled and fried eggs, lightly peppered. Spencer found the fried mushrooms and the sliced potatoes, while Mariyah discovered the condiments and the fried bread. **

**"I could get used to this too," She commented as she selected her breakfast of bacon, eggs (of both varieties) sausages, fried mushrooms and fried bread, and sliced potatoes. Spencer eyed her plate with suprise. Elle and JJ would have just stuck to toast with a smear of butter "I don't put on weight and I refuse to starve myself to fit into a pair of jeans. Besides, I don't normally have a big lunch if one at all."**

**Spencer nodded, it was the same with him. With what they faced at work, sometimes eating lunch wasn't the brightest idea.**

**They sat down at the table, after pouring orange juice. They discussed various netural subjects like politcs and favourite books before the conversation died out. **

**"So..." Spencer said.**

**"So, where do you come from?" Mariyah asked.**

**"Sin City. Las Vegas" He told her.**

**"The city of the seven deadly sins" Mariyah said, "However did you turn out to be so innocent?" **

**"No idea," Spencer laughed with her, "So where did you grow up?"**

**"In my father's mansion. It's in Artic Ural Mountains. There's a small town and my father's house is just above it." **

**"Must be huge" Spencer said.**

**"It's massive but I never liked it. It's too big. But it's been in our family for generations so it has to stay"**

**"Why don't you like it?" Spencer asked. **

**"It's lonely. So many rooms without a purpose, so many things and treasures confined to the past. I used to play as a child in those rooms, with the ghost of the past." **

**"Deep."**

**"I'm sorry. I'm depressing you." She said shying away. **

**"Not a problem. You're not the only one that played with the ghost of the past." Spencer opened his mouth without thinking. "Now I'm the one making you depressed."**

**"Never mind," Mariyah waved away the apolgy, "Hadn't we best get on over to the police station?" **

**Nodding, Spencer helped Mariyah to clear the table and replace all the lids, before putting on his shoes and picking up his satchel. As he opened the door and let Mariayh through it, he decided that maybe a new member of the team wasn't so bad. He was happy, he had had a wonderful breakfast and now he was talking with someone who understood him better in a few minutes than a whole army of shrinks had in ten years of talking at him. **

**Mariyah locked the door and the two spent the ten minute journey to the police station talking avidly about the case, Spencer sharing his suspisions on the lack of connections and Mariyah adding comments occasionally.**

**When they arrived at the station, things were not so amicable. Police officers were talking to a distraught woman and a man who was shouting at them, the team were trying to control the madness and Hotch was standing with the chief who was looking like thunder.**

**"What's wrong?" Spencer asked, narrowly avoiding a police woman with a large pitcher of water for the sobbing woman. **

**"Another boy is missing," **

**

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**

_(The kidnapping dates and stuff like that is also posted on my profile if it's too hard to read here. )_

**Hi,**

**me again with the reveiw replies. **

**_SpencerReid_** - thanks for reveiwing! It was your review that booted me upside the head and made me write this so here you go!

**_CatWillow_** - I agree with you on the whole racing through the scene and putting together a profile in ten minutes. It sometimes feels like they want to get to the action packed bit and ignore much of the scene setting bit. I thought that the research bit also made for longer reading and it's a very important plot device later on

**_ReidLover12_**** -** I can't wait either to find out the ending. I'm writing this with a vague idea of the end and with a set beginning. That leaves a lot of time and space for making things happen to Dr. Reid and Mariyah.

**_Archer14_**** - **It was a friend who actually suggested it to me and it sounded like a perfect oppunity to get in some pre-romance action. **  
**

**_Dani Casster_**** - **Calm down there!! I agree with you calling him 'poor' Reid but at least he gets some love in this fic. And I will update and I will keep writing. **  
**

**Nekko-Sama**** - **Thanks for reveiwing and I agree; the sharing a bed thing works in almost any situation. And I will be updating soon.

Thanks for reading and please reveiw!!!

J.


	8. Driving, Drawers and Diaries

Hey,

Sorry for the extreme lack of up dates. I like to get things perfect, then I moved house and then I got Ill and I'm making excuses aren't I? Anyway, here's chapter Nine and to make up for the lack of updates, I shall give you two. I seem to be doing that a lot lately... first for Power now this... Oh well. I have a request to make and I wouldn't advise you to do this unless you're fairly skilled:

I need someone to roleplay with. Now it's not like _that _kind of roleplay. . It's perfectly legal and it's to do with a vast number of things but it's basically writing a fanfiction with two people about a paragraph at a time with each one of you controlling each character's perspective (on like a forum or something). It's really complicated to explain but that's the basics. My friend got me addicted but she's away for the moment and I really want to carry on. Look at the link in my profile and it's kind of explained there.

There's a couple of categories I want to learn about: wolf roleplay, reverse gender role play and so on and so forth. I'm not too bad myself, nowhere near pro but reasonable. I know this is an odd thing to put forward on the site but whatever... If you're interested, drop me a PM or a review.

Anyway, on with the story and off we go...

* * *

Of Driving, Drawers and Diaries. 

"Another boy is missing,"

Spencer felt the bottom of his stomach drop. _There was another boy missing? Already?_ He checked his watch and groaned. _The timing of the killer was as always on the spot. Even to the exact minute._

"Okay," Gideon said to take control, "Hotch, we're going to need the parents to give us all the information they can about their child. I think a family care officer can help us get more information out of them once they're a little calmer. I suggest we go to the previous victims parents for any more information. We're going to need all the information they can give, if we want to catch the unsub."

"Agreed." Hotch said, then divided up the team. "Morgan and Elle, head over to the victims' work places and the school. Try to get all the information you can. Gideon and I will take the latest victim's parents and home. Mariyah and Spencer will take the other victims' homes and families. Okay?"

Everyone nodded and went to work on their assignments. They were on a deadline. The problem was the deadline was only six days away.

Mariyah and Spencer signed out a battered police vehicle. Using varying combinations of map work and guesses, they finally arrived at the first victim's house. They glanced at the house while getting out of the car. It was a three story Victorian house just like the others in the surrounding neighbourhood. Many of them were covered in ivy. The neighbourhood made for impressive viewing. They noticed the gardens were neat with plenty of flowers and trees cut into artfully chosen shapes and the lawns mowed in checkerboard patterns.

The two agents made their way up the path of house twenty-nine. The porch was cool and the two welcomed the relief from the oppressive heat of the sun as they knocked and waited for an answer. The man who answered the door was tall, and well built. He had dark rings under his eyes, indicating many sleepless nights, and he had three days of stubble on his chin.

"I'm Special Agent Doctor Alexandrovar and this is Special Agent Doctor Reid. Are you Alex Kethman's father?" His reply was affirmative, so Mariyah continued, "We need to speak to you about your son, Mr. Kethman."

"We already told you everything we know."

"We have some different questions now. May we come in?"

"I suppose." He let them into the house. Inside, the furniture was dusty. Photos of the victim lay on every free table surface. The blinds were drawn making the room gloomy and musty. A woman sat on a couch, her hair unkempt, and clothes rumpled. She twisted the edge of the blanket over the back of the sofa round and round in her hands. A mindless action distracted her from thinking.

"Mrs. Kethman?" Spencer asked, moving forward.

"Y-yes." She spoke with a stutter. It was as if the woman had not spoken for a long time.

"We have some new questions about your son."

A slight twitch of the shoulders and the hands stopping for a split second were the only signs the woman had heard them.

"Where did you say you two were from again?" Mr. Kethman said, walking around the sofa to stand behind his wife. His hand rested on her shoulder. She didn't move or make a sound in acknowledgment. She only continued to twist the blanket round and round her hands.

"We're from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Federal Bureau of Investigation. We're trying to identify your son's killer." Mariyah spoke softly, as if she was at a funeral.

"We need to know more about your son so that we know his killer's motive." Spencer said in his usual tone.

"O-Okay." Mr. Kethman was unnerved by how the agents had just turned his world upside down.

"Thank you." Mariyah sat in an armchair and Spencer took the one beside it. Mariyah chose to start with the simple questions. Spencer loathed asking the simple questions because it rarely, if ever got him the answers he wanted, but he knew they were needed now. "Did your son have any particular food or drink habits? I mean did he like to eat at certain restaurants or cafés?"

"What?" Mr. Kethman asked. He wasn't sure what to think.

Reid elaborated before Mariyah had the chance. "If your son ate at a certain restaurant at certain times or ordered the same kind of meal, then whomever killed your son may have noticed him like that. He may have been waiting staff or have known him through liking the same foods."

"Did your son have any close friends? Any girlfriends?" Mariyah leaned forward slightly and asked the question towards the wife. This question would often make or break the case depending on how the parents answered. Often the killer had a personal reason for attacking the victim and any close relationships were often part of this reasoning.

"Not that I know of. No." Mr. Kethman said.

Spencer turned his attention towards Mr. Kethman. It was obvious that he was the only one answering questions. "Did your son go anywhere regularly? Did he belong to a certain club, or go jogging at a certain time?" Mariyah asked, leaning forward slightly.

"No. I don't think so."

"Okay, did he have any particular interests? Like band or the soccer team." It was information they already had, but it didn't hurt to make sure.

"No."

They needed to get real answers the team could use to save the newest victim. "Could we have a look at his room?"

"Yes, the police told us to try and leave it like it was."

Mr. Kethman led them through the house and up the stairs. The appearance of the house didn't vary much from the front room; dark and dusty.

Spencer looked around at the photos scattered across the rooms. All of them portrayed the first victim in at various ages, in different poses, and locations. One was taken in front of the Christmas tree, the child was around the age of five. In another picture, the victim was at the beach. He was older and missing his front teeth. In the most recent photo, he was tall, brown hair worn long with large expressive eyes and a bright smile. Spencer recognized it from the missing persons report. Only one other photo was more recent and Spencer would not have shown that to the mother for anything.

They arrived at the bedroom. The door was closed, indicating it was once the boy's room. A plaque designed to look like the waves, told the agents that the room belonged to 'Alex'. The whole door was covered with flags with famous swimmers faces and even one with the face of the latest Olympic winner.

Mr. Kethman pushed open the door then back away "I'm sorry, I...I can't."

"It's okay," Spencer told him. Mr. Kethman nodded and walked away.

"Poor man" Mariyah commented as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves and stepped inside the room. Inside it was bright compared to the rest of the house. A muslin curtain did nothing to halt the sunshine from entering the room, but it only highlighted the absence of life in the room.

The walls were covered with certificates and the shelves lined with trophies. When Spencer examined them closer, every one of them had to do with swimming. Medals hung from hooks in the wall. There were a few bronze and a few silver, but most of them gold.

"He was good," Spencer noted aloud. Mariyah nodded as she started to go through drawers.

Spencer opened the closet and sifted through it. Clothes, mostly designer and all of them expensive hung above two shoe racks covered with every type of shoe: loafers, training shoes, tennis shoes, and sandals. Again, mostly all of them were designer and very expensive. The overhead storage space revealed board games and several puzzle boxes.

Moving onto the bookcase, Spencer found numerous training manuals and guides to swimming. There was a wide range of fiction books. Some were sci-fi and crime novels. The others were adventure or horror books. Spencer removed a horror novel entitled: "The Beast of The Deep". He flicked it open to a random page and closed it again.

He looked over at Mariyah who was digging through the drawers of the dresser. She looked underneath the drawers and started tapping. Spencer surmised she was looking for hidden compartments. _Why would a teenager have a hidden compartment in a dresser? _He wondered.

Mariyah noticed that Spencer watching her. "Some of these old Victorian and Edwardian pieces have hidden compartments where ladies used to keep their diaries and secret love notes so their husbands' wouldn't know. I had one in my dresser and another one in my bedside table in Russia." She informed him as she shut the last drawer. "This however, is not that type of piece. I just thought that maybe he had found one and maybe used it for something."

Mariayh opened the bedside table drawer and laid out the contents, out on the bed. It was typical teenage junk, a few sweets, a porn magazine, and a couple of pieces of paper with phone numbers on them. Spencer copied the numbers into his notepad and bagged them. They were probably nothing, but it never hurt to make sure.

Mariyah looked at the drawer and frowned. "Do you notice anything odd about this drawer?"

Spencer moved around the side of the bed. The bottom of the draw was much higher that the front board suggested. He reached forward and tapped it. It sounded hollow, even though the bedside table was made out of oak. He pushed the board at the back of the drawer down and it lifted up. Underneath lay a diary, green leather bound with 'diary' written in neat cursive gothic gold script on the front.

"Well that's not at all suspicious is it?" Mariyah commented as she lifted it out.

The diary was well used, the spine worn and the pages well thumbed. Spencer held the evidence bag open as Mariyah carefully laid it in, before he labelled it and placed it in his satchel.

Spencer looked around the room. The sunlight reflected off the many trophies on the shelves, hundreds upon hundred. Spencer knew from the files, the victim had been looking at a scholarship to Penn State. Due to the trophies, he would be guaranteed free ride. His future was then set in the ground. Spencer shook himself. He let his imagination run away. They cleared away the little they had disturbed and left the room. Mariyah shut the door on the empty room and shivered in spite of herself.

Downstairs, Mariyah asked the parents permission to take the book. Mrs. Kethman was sobbing loudly into her husband's shoulder and he was comforting her. He nodded, distracted as his wife let out a fresh wave of tears. The two let themselves out of the house, shutting the door quietly behind them.

When they had hurried down the steps into the relative peace of the car, Mariyah's voice was shaky. "Poor woman."

Spencer nodded. He was already itching to read the diary. They pulled away from the house and on to the next victim's home.

* * *

Well there you have it. The next chapter and now click the pretty purple button down below... 

And remember what I asked? Pretty please...


	9. Sex, Suggestions and Secrets

Hi, it's me,

Have fun reading and remember the request, ne?

* * *

Of Sex, Suggestions and Secrets

Spencer and Mariyah pulled up outside the home of the second victim, their arrival only noted by an old looking dog hidden under a battered deck chair. The difference in standard of living was vast. The first victim had a nice house, two nice cars and a checker board patterned lawn. This victim had a run down trailer in a run down trailer park and the nicest car around was a battered pickup truck propped on cinderblocks. There were no lawns in this area.

Mariyah climbed the rickety steps leading up to the trailer directly in front of them, Spencer following. A rusty iron '4', propped up beside the door informed them that this trailer was indeed the last known address of the second victim.

Spencer knocked on the screen door and the pair waited for nearly five minutes before a man came to the door. He wore a crumpled t-shirt with food stains on it and he hadn't shaved in weeks. He peered blearily at the two agents on the porch and asked loudly, "Wha' you want?"

Spencer took the lead and said, "I am Special Agent Doctor Reid and this is Special Agent Doctor Alexandrovar, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit with the FBI. Are Mr Richards?"

Mariyah took over, "We're involved in investigating your son's death."

"Where da fuck were ya when ma son needed ya?" The man shouted. He leaned forward threateningly, his breath reeking of cheap whiskey.

"Sir?" Spencer was knocked off kilter by the statement, but the man continued on.

"Ma son is six feet under 'cos of ya stupid rules-" The man was cut off by a second voice from somewhere in the mobile home "Let them in Earl, they ain't gonna hurt us!"

The man snarled wordlessly in the direction of the interior of the trailer and stood aside. Mariyah and Spencer sidled into the home. Spencer's brain was itching to say something, anything to relieve the heavy glare the man was directing in his direction. Stepping in to the living area, Spencer noted it was gloomy, cramped and incredibly clean. The air smelled overwhelmingly of pine cleaner and polish and every surface shone so bright it reflected even the few rays of dim sunshine. Mariyah sat down in the one armchair Spencer stood behind her.

A shuffling noise came from behind the two and they turned as one. A woman shuffled into the room, her head to the floor. She wore a grey long skirt and a black shirt, which were crumpled but clean. She had red rimmed eyes and no makeup; the same look as Alex Kethman's mother.

She sat down on the couch and drew her knees up to herself. Her husband stood behind her. He looked threateningly at the agents; she sniffled and asked, "How can we help you?"

Mariyah asked "We need to ask you some questions about your son's habits and then we need to see his room. Is that alright?"

The woman sniffed again, blowing her nose on a paper tissue and nodded, the man frowned but stayed silent. Spencer wondered whether the great hulking, six foot tall man would actually contribute to the question but wisely held his tongue. It would not be fun explaining to Hotch how he managed to end up in hospital on the second day of the investigation. Not to mention the stick he'd get from Morgan.

Spencer and Mariyah ran through the same questions they'd gone through with the same answers. The questions yielded nothing in the way in information but maybe the bedroom would show slightly better results.

After asking permission from the parents and receiving a nod and a sniffle from the woman and a glare from the husband, they were led through the small trailer by the man who grudgingly showed them into the room and left them only after being called twice. Spencer rolled his shoulders, still feeling the harsh stare of the man despite the two rooms and three walls and nineteen feet of space in between him and the man.

He looked around, mentally comparing this room to that of the first victim. This room was small, cramped and had an odour that smelled distinctly of old trainers and unwashed clothes. No medals lined the walls and the single window was small, dirty and the catch was broken. No posters of famous swimmers lined the walls, instead were pictures of half naked or nude women with a rabbit logo in the corners. Apparently, victim number two had a healthy attitude with the other sex. Though Spencer mused as he saw the three foot high pile of 'adult' magazines beside the bed, there was such a thing as addiction.

Mariyah had already pulled on a pair of gloves and was picking through the closet. "Nothing except dirty clothes and shoes," she said backing out, "Not that I'd expected anything else."

Spencer was leafing through the text books on the desk and rummaging through the drawers. "Nothing here either." He glanced around at the rest of the room. He stared at the mattress. Was it his imagination or did the mattress slope? The more he stared at the bed, the more he became convinced that the mattress did indeed slope and rather a lot.

"Ummm...Mariyah?" He said, "The bed slopes."

"Beg your pardon?" Mariyah looked at him with a slightly puzzled look.

"The bed. The mattress I mean. It slopes and the bed frame doesn't."

Mariyah came over to where he was standing. "Yeah...yeah it does." Spencer went to the edge of the bed and grabbed an edge of the mattress. Heaving the end up, Spencer muttered, "Little help here?"

Grabbing the other side of the mattress Mariyah helped to pull it even further back, revealing the underside of the mattress and the slats. Neither of which were particularly interesting or relevant. However the grey folder and the second pile of face down 'adult' magazines were. "Why hide these?" he wondered, "He makes no shame in hiding the other ones."

Mariyah picked one up, "The other ones don't involve Speedos and the extreme absence of oestrogen." Holding the magazine up to him open, Spencer saw a large man in a pair of distinctly skimpy trunks and handcuffs. "Naughty Swimmers in Naughty Situations," She read the title off the cover, "Classy."

Spencer picked up the folder. Inside were a few pictures, torn from magazines and a notebook. On the front was scrawled 'Diary'. Spencer bagged and tagged it, as Mariyah bagged and tagged the magazines.

Replacing the mattress, the pair did a last sweep of the room and found nothing.

They left the room, the only indication they had ever been in it was the disturbed bedding and the fact the mattress no longer lay over a strange treasure trove.

Shutting the door behind her, Mariyah led the way out of the trailers. The bereaved mother said a teary "Bye…" The man only glared at then as the pair shut the door quietly behind them.

Spencer gave a sigh of relief as he finally felt the father's glare leave his shoulders.

"You want to drive?" Mariyah waved the keys in his direction. "Or do you want the map again?"

Spencer declined the offer to drive again and slid into the passenger seat. Reversing the car Mariyah expertly reversed it through the gates and onto the road back to the centre of town. "Where next?" she inquired.

Not needing to check his notebook, Spencer reeled off "Old Mason Farm, just south of the town, off the old High Road."

"Photographic memory?" Mariyah asked.

"Yeah." Spencer didn't expand and Mariyah seemed content to just let the silence grow.

They drove through the town meeting only a fraction of the traffic they expected. Driving over the High Road, however, proved to be a bit of an adventure. The High Road turned out to be a track road which a truck would have struggled with. In their small saloon, old as it was, Mariyah and Spencer felt like peas in a shaken tin. After a couple of minutes, Mariyah pulled into a little parking spot and took the map. "Well, we got a choice," she told Spencer after a lengthy examination of said map, "Either we ride in this for another forty-five minutes and pray this car doesn't fall apart on us or we walk it."

Spencer took the map and estimated the distance. It was only a few miles to the Old Mason Farm. The car had no air conditioning, there was no wind through the tiny gap the window could be rolled down to and the car was sweltering. And the radio was broken. Since the car couldn't go faster than about one mile an hour and two relatively fit humans could cover three times that in the same amount of time, he surmised it would indeed be faster.

"Walk it?" He said to Mariyah.

"Walk it." She concurred. Driving the car further into the shade, Mariyah and Spencer rolled up the windows, took out her briefcase and his satchel and locked the car. Stepping onto the dirt road, they walked in companionable silence for some minutes before Spencer said, "What was it like, in the Russian BAU?"

"Different" Mariyah said before expanding with a thoughtful look on her face, "There were a lot more independent cases because there weren't many of us. Just four rather six. And we didn't often get to go out like this. Not many people outside the unit trusted what we did. We mostly gave a prelim.() and then expanded on it in court. We rarely got pulled out as far as St Petersburg never mind across the whole country, crossing state lines."

"When was the team set up?" Spencer asked, "I mean we've been around six or seven years."

"We were only set up two years ago and even then only as an experiment. We were only formally made a Division eight months ago."

"Why don't they trust you," Spencer asked.

"A lot of the police officers are old-school. They had a hard enough time excepting DNA evidence when that came through. Catching a killer based on a psyc analysis? That's something they don't trust. Because it's hard to see and requires a degree...well it's difficult for them. Haven't you come across it before?"

"Yes..." Spencer had indeed come across it, on several occasions. Big burly police officers who were two or three generations in the field and didn't believe in namby-pamby stuff like profiles were the usual culprits. Well, they were always the ones eating their words.

A farm house crept into view on Spencer's left. The road curved round to the left and within a few minutes of seeing the farm house, Mariyah and Spencer were standing outside the gate. A sign swaying gently in the wind informed them that it was indeed the Old Mason Farm they were looking at an that the farm owned cattle, horses and sheep, with a few crops growing in between.

A man strolled across the yard towards the gate, two dogs loping alongside him. "Now what may I help you with?" He asked in a loud but friendly tone of voice. Spencer and Mariyah flipped open their ID holders and Spencer said," We're from the FBI's BAU, investigating a murder. We need to speak to the Masons, if that's possible."

"Aye, it's possible." The man swung the gate open and waved them through "I'm Benny. I'm a farm worker 'ere on this farm."

"Did you know Michael Mason?" Mariyah asked, pulling a notebook and pencil from her pocket.

"Did I know him? Did I ever. Drove him fourteen and a half miles to school and back again everyday since he was six and a half. Shame 'bout what 'appened to 'im though. He was a good kid."

"Was he ever in any kind of trouble or anything like that?" Spencer prodded as the three traversed up the drive.

"Nah. He was a bright kid, always polite. Kid stood to make it big though. This farm was all going to be his. Since Mr Mason went and did his back in and can't work now. Michael helped all over the farm. Nobody had a bad word to say 'bout him."

"Okay." Spencer shut his notebook as the three approached the house. It looked old, expensive and a big difference from the second victim's house/trailer. A large lawn of nearly an acre preceded the house, mown in lines and with cheerful flowers planted along the edge. A man in green overalls was tending to them, with a water can and scissors. He waved to Benny and Spencer and Mariyah were informed his name was Jimmy and was Benny's "Big Bro."

They climbed the path, elegant crazy paving in green and blue and red. As they got near to the house, Spencer saw it had window boxes and delicate woodwork around the windows on the shutters. A real old farm house, Spencer thought as he saw the plaque declaring it to be built in 1869. Benny rang the doorbell, a huge iron affair made of brass and Spencer idly noticed it was made in the late 1800's by a famous bell maker who also made door knobs. He had a lot of books and too much time he thought dryly.

The door was opened by a maid, with dark skin and an African accent, "Benny! Oh there you are! The Masons are due back any moment! - Oh!" she said as she saw Spencer and Mariyah, "How may I help you?" She dropped back into politeness very quickly.

"These are Special Agents from da FBI," Benny informed her, "They's here investigating Mikey's death."

"Oh! Please come in!" The maid opened the door wide and ushered them inside. Benny waved mournfully at them before the maid shut the door rather forcefully in his face. "Mr and Mrs Mason are in town at the moment. They've been to Church. I shall go call them immediately. Please have a seat." She waved them through to a small reception and hurried off presumably to call the Masons.

Spencer sat down in an armchair, Mariyah on the couch opposite him. "So..." Spencer said, looking around the room.

"So..." Mariyah repeated. "What do we do with diaries?"

"Hotch said to give them to the unit in the town over. We should have it back by tomorrow and we can start reading them."

"We need them tonight. He's been missing nearly three days already. He only has about seventy-six hours left." Mariyah disagreed.

"I suppose we could take them tonight ourselves," Spencer pondered, "Hotch would let us go and we'd probably have them in our hands by nine o'clock ready to read."

"Call and ask-" Mariyah cut off at the arrival of the same maid.

"Mr and Mrs Mason are about five minutes away. Would you like to stay?"

Spencer and Mariyah shared a glance. They would only have to come back again. And it would cost in time and energy, so Spencer nodded, "Please."

The maid escorted them to a formal living room at the other side of the house and as soon as they sat down, a large 4x4 pulled up outside the house. A man and woman got out, but it was too difficult to see what they looked like.

Not thirty seconds later the maid showed the same man and woman into the room and quietly shut the door. Both the newcomers wore Sunday best in black, the woman with a veil and black jewellery, the man in a suit, black as well. She sat on the in an armchair, the man standing to the side of the chair.

"Mr and Mrs Mason?" Mariyah asked.

"Yes. I apologise but who are you?" the man asked, one hand on his wife's shoulder.

"My name is Special Agent Spencer Reid," Spencer said, "This is Special Agent Mariyah Alexandrovar. We're investigating your son's murder."

"Would it be possible to ask you some questions?"

"Sure." The woman replied. Spencer noted she clutched a white handkerchief but thankfully showed no sign of bursting into tears. At least, not yet.

They quickly ran through the questions. Once again no answers that would help break the case. The murdered teen was just another charming little boy without a problem in the world.

"Just one last question, please. Why did your son work in a shop if he had an allowance?"

"Oh," Mrs Mason chuckled, "He was insistent on earning the money for his gap year himself. So my brother found him a part-time job in his little store. It didn't pay much but Mikey was happy."

Mariyah nodded. Spencer asked, "May we please see his room now?"

"Of course." Both parents answered in unison. The mother showed them up to the room on the third floor, in the west wing. On the door, a red and white flag was prominently displayed. "The high's schools hockey team colours."

"Did he play?" Mariyah asked

"No, his best friend does." The mother pushed the door open, "Sorry about the mess."

The room had two beds, two wardrobes, and two dressers, two of everything. The similarities ended there. Where as the side of the room with the bedspread embroidered with Matthew was as messy and chaotic as you please, with model cars and mecha-assult models and other childhood paraphernalia liberally scattered around the area all in varying shades of red, the side with Michael embroidered on the bedspread was as neat and tidy as ever it could be. School books neatly lined up in the bookcase, in subject order, and files meticulously labelled in neat cursive handwriting followed the same neat pattern as the bed with hospital sharp corners and the polished desk.

"Why does Michael share with his younger brother?" Mariyah asked.

"Because Matthew has such horrible night terrors and he sleepwalks. Michael volunteered when he was nine and Matt was just three." Mrs Mason stared wistfully into the room, "Matt once walked out onto the balcony and fell off of it. Nearly killed himself so we decided as a family he had to share with someone. He couldn't stay in our room so Michael stepped up. They've always been close as brothers, always knowing when and where the other is. Even though there's such a large age gap between them, Michael always took care of his baby brother. It's always been that way."

"Can we speak to Matthew?" Spencer figured since the two brothers were so close, Matthew might know something.

"I'm sorry. He was so distressed and fearful we sent him to my parents in France. He was asked so many horrible questions and reporters and people wouldn't stop bothering him. My parent's offered to take him so we did."

"When's he returning?" Mariyah asked.

"Not for another three weeks." Mrs Mason shrugged, "Sorry."

"Oh. All right."

"Can I trust you alone up here? I don't think...I can't..." Mrs Mason trailed off.

"Certainly Mrs Mason." Mariyah watched as the woman descended the stairs.

"What do you make of the fact they shared a room in this huge house?" Spencer asked.

"I was close to my oldest brother. We were the only two not part of twins or triplets, so I guess we just bonded through that. I used to get nightmares as well, and we'd often share a room until he was in his late teens. The only reason I stopped was because I went to boarding school." Mariyah laughed, "If I had been a boy we would have had to have kept sharing anyway."

They systematically went through the room, through the files and the desk and even under the mattress. Nothing. Nearly an hour later, nothing.

Mariyah came to stand by Spencer, "A whole hour spent looking an nothing." She shifted her weight to her other leg. 'Creeeaaak!' The floorboards groaned. She did it again with the same result. "That's wrong." She said.

"Why?"

"You do it." Spencer did it. No sound. Moved to another part of the room. Still no sound. Mariyah moved again and there it was 'Creeeaaak!' Together they pulled back the rug. And underneath it was a small trapdoor. Mariyah shifted her gun out of its holster.

Spencer raised his eyebrows and pulled the trap door open. Inside was a crawl space big enough to allow a man to pass through or stay in with reasonable comfort. It trailed under the floor, it's end too far away to see.

"So what do we do?" Mariyah asked.

"Call Gideon." Spencer knew somehow that Gideon would want to know of this development in the case.

Forty minutes later, the Sheriff, three police officers and the crime scene investigation unit were on the scene. Mrs and Mr Mason had professed no knowledge of the crawl space and had gone downstairs to give another statement.

"Well, well, well." The Sheriff didn't seem too impressed, "It's a crawl space. What does it prove? It's probably been there since this house was built."

"Only if they had Black and Decker power tools in the mid-1800s." Mariyah stood up, "there's a stamp in the screws. Black and Decker primary range one. You don't have to be a genius to work it out. And they look new. No more than a few weeks old."

The Sheriff pondered on that for a moment. "So," He said finally. What do we do about it?"

"We have to send someone down there." Hotch said decisively, "And Mariyah and Spencer are going to be the ones to do it."

* * *

Review? Please? 

(Kinky title, no?)

Bye


	10. Of Argument, Attachment and Apologies

Hi guys!

Boy...It's been ages since I've updated...Nearly two months and then I was dormant for ages before that. You never realise what the phrase 'Writers Block' truly means until you get it... my muse ran away. And wouldn't come back.

Now...I have an idea.

What would you little reviewers (love you all very much) and READERS WHO DON'T WANT TO BECOME REVIEWERS (love you too but reviewers get cookies and special mentions...hint hint) want if I was so bold as to bring you **drabbles**? All about the team covering various pairings...?

Hmmm?

Well have a think about it, and get back to me. I don't mind if you drop me a PM or a review either's nice. Just a few phrases like some I have down at the bottom. It would be really nice, and if I write them you'd get it dedicated to you. So, there you have it. A chance at a dedicated drabble with your name on it. Wouldn't that be nice?

And one last thing...Would you be so kind as to tell me whether it's genii or geniuses. Because I got a slightly shirty review telling me it was one and then another PM telling me it was the other. So help out a confused author alright?

As always review replies are at the bottom so read on my people...

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**Of Argument, Attachment and Apologies**

"Us? Why us?" Spencer squeaked, edging away from the hole, "I'm-"

"There's no one down there and you're the only one skinny enough to go down there and hold a gun at the same time. And Mariyah has the most experience with these kinds of cases so she has to go. And there's no room for any more people." Hotch trounced his argument before Spencer had even really got started.

"Alright. When do we get started?" Mariyah beside him was gleefully rubbing her hands and grinning.

"Oh no. Oh no...No. NO! You're one of those people who think throwing themselves out an aircraft at five thousand feet with only a parachute made formed from thin fibres is a fun idea, aren't you?" Spencer groaned.

"What? It is fun." She said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Spencer wordlessly groaned and covered his eyes. Trust him to fall for the adrenaline junkie.

"I don't want to go." He announced, expecting that to be the end of it.

"Why?" Mariyah asked, "Scared?" Her look on her face said, 'I dare you..."

And Spencer being the fool he was, stuck his foot right in it and said "I'll do it!"

Quite what happened after that, Spencer didn't quite know. But ten minutes after he had boldly and really, rather stupidly, accepted Mariyah's challenge, he was standing on the edge of the hole. A climbing harness was being strapped around him by a large burly fire fighter and it was uncomfortably tight and close to his groin. He did rather want children in the further and the harness was really a trifle too close to his umm...manly bits.

Mariyah stood beside him, yanking on her thigh straps. "You do realise this is going to complete ruin our clothes." She remarked, as she gave a particularly vicious yank, "Ah well. It's has been a long time since I've done something like this though. Nearly a year."

"Just a year?" Spencer really wasn't all that interested, just wanted some conversation to distract him from the uncomfortable feeling of waiting to climbing into that big black hole that was looking even worse with each minute that passed. Mariyah apparently understood that need and continued.

"Yeah. Had a sixty metre climbing wall at the old base. Was awesome to climb whenever you wanted. Watch out though for spiders and creepy-crawlies down there, though. Would be nasty to meet them when you're not expecting it."

"Why are we wearing –ow- these again?" He asked the fire fighter who had yanked on his strap mid-sentence.

"'Cause we don't know how far it goes, or if or when it drops down a hole. And we can keep track of you and pull you back if we need to" 'Pull back our corpses if we die down there,' Spencer wanted to mutter but kept his mouth shut, "...And of course you can find your way back by following the ropes." The fire fighter gave Spencer's straps one last yank and stood up, "There, done."

As soon as the fire man had turned around and wandered off looking for the hard hats, Spencer reached down and yanked the straps looser again. Blood rushed into his legs as he gave a sigh on relief. "Ow" He whimpered quietly as pins and needles appeared in his thighs.

Hustling back over, the fire fighter shoved a white hard hat on his head and one on to Mariyah's head. Shoving a lamp into Spencer's hand, he clipped Mariyah's helmet straps together and turned to Spencer. He did something with the straps and suddenly Spencer's mouth was rammed shut. The straps were quickly loosened though and Spencer thankfully regained speech. Mariyah was fiddling with her lamp, doing something horribly complicated to affix it on to her hard hat. The fire fighter attached Spencer's lamp and twisted it on. Turning to help Mariyah, the fire man soon discovered she was already set. Stomping off once more, he was off in search of something else.

"Ropes I expect. And mics and cams, so we can communicate with everyone." Mariyah said absently looking into the hole. Spencer dearly wished she wouldn't do that. He was quite happy on either the first floor or the second floor not between them.

Indeed, the fire fighter returned clutching a mess of ropes in one hand and a mass of cables in a another. Another fire fighter accompanied him. Thrusting the cables at the second fire fighter, the first one clipped with remarkable speed, a rope and carabiner together and clipped them to Spencer's harness. He repeated the process with the chest harness and then turned to Mariyah. Realising quickly she was capable of doing it buy herself; he turned to Spencer and clipped a cam and a mic to his helmet and said, "Say something." "Ummm...Something?" Spencer was being deliberately obtuse and he knew it but apparently the fire fighter didn't and he just merely nodded and turned to Mariyah once one of the other guys across the room had given a thumbs up. Probably one of the tech guys then, on sound. The guys on video seemed to be doing alright and gathered around the screen in front of them. Mariyah was all set and ready to go and so was Spencer. Unfortunately.

He looked up and saw Hotch talking to the rest of the team. They all wandered over, presumably to have a last minute discussion (Hotch and Gideon) or to laugh at him and his predicament (the rest of the team). "Reid." Gideon just clapped him on the back and moved off. Fat lot of good that was. Hotch merely ran down a list of what was to happen and what to do in case of emergencies. Again, a fat lot of good that was though slightly better than what Gideon did. Morgan, Elle and JJ just did the same as Gideon and left.

Standing over the hole, it looked an awful lot smaller than it had done when he was standing across the other side of the room. He looked down at Mariyah as she yanked on her straps one last time. She pulled out her guns and handed two to Hotch, "Guard them with your life." She said to him and, holding the third one tightly, she gestured to Spencer, "Well, shall I go first then?" Without giving Spencer time to answer she stepped into the hole, crouched down and promptly disappeared from view. The trailing rope the only sign she was actually there. Spencer groaned, rubbed his hand over his face and wished he'd never agreed to this.

That done, he stepped down into the hole and knelt down. Being of a much taller build than Mariyah, he had to back up, sliding his legs underneath the floor in an opposite direction to where he wanted to go. Then he lowered his torso and in great pain, because he was almost doubled back on himself, ducked beneath the floor. He blinked. He had expected absolute darkness, but there was, at least a modicum of light underneath the floor. That said, it wasn't enough to be able to dispense with the lamps. Mariyah's boots appeared before him and he heard, from the receiver in his ear, "You in?"

"Yes." He really, really wasn't in the mood to be polite right now.

"Right. Off we go then." She however seemed to be enjoying this. A bizarre kind of army crawl was eventually what Spencer settled on for getting around. Hands and knees meant he was scraping his back against the floor above and that really, really hurt so he dropped that idea pretty quick and pulling oneself along on strategically placed objects and pipes seemed to be confined to the movies at the moment. So, army crawl it was however stupid it looked. Mariyah was quite happily pulling herself along up ahead and the humming in his ear was quite annoying. "So..." Mariyah just had to choose now to start up a conversation, didn't she?

"Yes..." Spencer was really getting quite frustrated about not being able to raise his head much more than a foot. It was really starting to hurt now.

"...I think there's a drop up ahead," Spencer could tell that wasn't what she had intended to say and so he pulled on the boot in front. She turned around and back crawled towards him. Switching off their mics for a moment, he paused. "I'm sorry I asked you to come down here." She spoke first and he smiled.

"I just really didn't want to come here. Though it's not as bad as I thought..." a complete and utter lie, but as long as it made her feel better then he'd confess to anything.

"Thanks but you don't have to lie. I just thought it would be easier if you came along. You're much easier to talk to than the others."

"Bird of a feather, flock together." He quoted the age old proverb and she grinned.

"Right, let's get going then."

"Go on then." Switching the mics back on, he pulled on, just following Mariyah's boots. Then, they abruptly stopped. "What?" he asked, crawling up beside her, "Why'd you – oh." Oh really rather said it all. "Hotch?" He spoke into the mic and loud and clear, Hotch's voice came back.

"Go ahead Spencer."

"A drop. About sixty feet? Our lights can't see the bottom so it's deep."

"Sixty feet?" Hotch's surprise came through on the mic. Mariyah looked down it as well. "Yup. I'd say between sixty and one hundred feet so yeah, sixty feet sounds about right if a bit low."

Brief murmurs could be heard over the crackling and eventually Hotch said, "Go down it carefully, and make sure the ropes are touching anything that could cause them to fray too much, is what the fire fighters are saying and Mariyah?"

"Ya?" She was looking around for something. Spencer didn't quite know what she was looking for but soon turned his attention back to the mic.

"You'll need to guide the rope for Spencer and then he'll have to help you from the bottom or something." Gideon was speaking now.

"I'll free climb down. It'll be quicker and easier."

"Fine." Gideon handed the speaker back Hotch.

"A-Ha!" Mariyah crawled back over to the ledge, holding pieces of sacking. "Don't quite know why these are under here, must have been for insulation or something but they'll be fine to cushion the ropes." She took one and laid it along the edge. Spencer got the idea and soon the both of them had cushioned the edge of the wall. Spencer gulped. Well, there was no time like the present was there, to get things going... Mariyah guided him around and helped him flatten himself out in preparation to slide into the hole. He was really regretting the big breakfast he had this morning. It was roiling in his stomach like it was a live thing. He looked up at Mariyah who was smiling reassuringly. "Relax" she said, "I've got your ropes so you're not going anywhere unless I say so. Okay?"

"Okay." Spencer put his arms out, braced them on the pipe in front of him and turned and slid into the hole in one move. Finding the foot wide hole a snug but not truly close fit, he used his left hand to control the decent and the right to keep himself steady and upright. He lowered away, Mariyah's light fading but her voice not. She kept up a steady monologue and Spencer was grateful. He was by no means truly claustrophobic but he disliked small spaces and this was about as small as he had gotten. Ever. Sixty something feet of thin air and the odd dust mote was all that lay between him and the ground. Possibly. If he was lucky. Mariyah said it could possibly be up to a hundred feet.

And that wasn't a good thing to contemplate, he decided, when he was already angsty enough about going down. He tuned back into Mariyah's commentary. "How you doing?" She enquired.

"Great. I always wanted to do this." He couldn't _quite_keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"Touchy..." She didn't seem fazed by his sarcasm, "You know, I really hope the unsub not waiting at the bottom," She added.

"Mariyah!" He snapped but she just laughed softly. Slowly, inch by inch he lowered away. And finally, blissfully, his feet touched the floor. He ducked down, his gun still in his hand. He shone the headlamp around but there was nobody there.

And then, "You're down then?" Mariyah's voice made him jump but there was nobody there to see it.

"Yes."

"Good. Stand out the way." Now was no longer the time for chatting and making comments. Now was the time for them all to start looking for the boy. A few minutes later, Mariyah landed at the bottom of the shaft, her ropes disconnected from her harness. They clinked there, the carabiners reflecting the lights from the torches. Mariyah unclipped Spencer and let his ropes swing back to under the shaft. Spencer didn't know why, but it felt rather like he was being disconnected with the team upstairs. She paused, her eyes looking at some small detail. Spencer followed her gaze. There, embedded in the wall was a small hook. "Climbing hook. Used to make a rig." At Spencer's look she said, "It's a kind of rope that you can travel along. You tie it to two points and you connect yourself in with another loop of rope. Like this" She demonstrated, the rope running through the loop. "It's used by people who can climb very well. They basically only use the rope to get up to the rock and down into shafts."

They pressed on into the tunnel, their lights guiding their feet. Mariyah held her gun like she was used to it, Spencer noticed it. Like a soldier not an agent. Not like the other girls on his team. He had read about things like that. Little ways that gave away your past. Mariyah didn't brace her elbows like they had been taught at the academy and she didn't use two hands like Spencer did. He had his braced and both hands on it, the better to balance the recoil. Her method was a typical Russian soldier's method; keep the gun in one hand and the other can be doing something else, like throwing a grenade and the no brace on the elbow meant she could bounce with the recoil.

Out of all the team, only Hotch could do that and the only reason he could, is because he'd been in more shootouts than anyone. He had fired his weapons more times than anyone Spencer knew and the bounce back skill where you didn't break your elbow or get hit with the shock of the recoil is one you have to learn in the field. It never really works in the shooting gallery. Spencer shook his head. Now was not the time to be mentally comparing shooting styles amongst his work colleagues. Suddenly a light shone ahead. Reflexively tightening his finger on the trigger, Spencer almost shouted out in surprise. Thankfully he didn't. And as they moved close to the light, they found it was a mirror. On a door. Why the hell would a door be covered in a mirror? This case was just getting weirder and weirder with each discovery.

He pushed the door the door open. It swung with an ominous creak and the two geniuses gazed into the space beyond, cloaked in darkness...

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And that's all from the story, folks. For now.

And now onto the horrible A/N stuff. Oh wells. First up is...

Review replies:

Nightangelx18: I know I haven't updated in a while...My work's been stacking up but I hope this will tide you over!

Lum: This is hopefully quick enough for you!

Twister Truth:Well, you kind find out where the crawl space leads...-hangs head in shame-

Archer 14: Exactly what I thought! And, just a query...would you be so inclined as to learn how to role play? No obligation you understand. We can puzzle it out together. PM me if you want to try.

Tearbos:Well, you kind of...almost find out...Oh well, it's hard to find a good cut off point! So I hope this will work for you.

Foxyladyhubbards: Hope I got the name right...Here you go. Enjoy!

And that's it for the reviews.

But now for the drabbles

I will be posting at first a minimum of ten and a maximum of twenty five. I think. Should everything go to plan anyway.

The kind of thing I am looking for fits into four categories.

1) A quote. Any quote as long as it has its original maker next to it. For example

"**The Pope has swept through Africa, where 5 million people are already infected with the ****AIDS virus****, and which expects by the end of the century to have 10 million orphans whose parents have died of AIDS - and told them not to use condoms**" Brenda Maddox.

(That was in remembrance of world AIDS day)

2) A random remark or statement. Or order. Example:

"Come here"

3) A randomised words or verb. For example:

"Red, orange, green, blue" OR "Speak, run, whimper, freak, bite and love" Various themes. Don't particularly care either way.

4) A title I have to work to. Example:

"Spencer's really, really bad day at work." Or "Spencer's Pain" ---- is very random. This will probably be the chapter title if I choose to put them all together.

Okay. That's me all done. -Scrolls up- Wow, I talk a lot don't I?

Well, don't let me do all the talking. Press the little purple/blue button down there and leave a review. Preferably with some drabble ideas if you'd be so kind...

And since reviews seem to be decreasing in numbers, I have since chosen to help you all out and point to the button so you don't get all confuzzled and can't find it.

\ /


	11. Of Failures, Fakeouts and Fits

**Hi. I've been undergoing radio silence for so long it's amazing I dared to get back in the game. Moving on rather swiftly, I really really don't like this chapter. However, since it was like pulling teeth **_**and**_** blood from a stone at the same time I give up on this chapter. Love it? Hate it?Es no mi problema. Not anymore anyway. **

**So. Read. Review and tell me what you tink. Is it crap? Tell me. (I would say don't, but right now, I just need human contact.)**

**As always review replies are on the bottom. **

**So. Read on...**

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**Of Failures, Fake-outs and Fits**

There was nothing there. Just an empty space. Spencer didn't holster his weapon though, the unsub could be still in there. Hiding. He walked through the door, careful to keep his gun ready and aimed at the centre of the space. Mariyah covered him from one step behind. He could feel nothing beyond the room and within twenty seconds of entering it, his thoughts were confirmed. The room wasn't a room though. It went on and around a corner.

"Shall we?" Spencer asked Mariyah. She just nodded, her face tense.

They moved into the room, the deadly silence encasing them like a shroud. And that, Spencer decided, was far too morbid a line of thought for this situation. They tunnel curved almost back on itself and Spencer followed it, keeping close to the wall. Mariyah followed him, the only sound that of their breathing and the gentle crunch of their footsteps on the gritty floor. The floor was occasionally broken by heavy boulders some as big as Spencer. He noted that they would make for good cover.

Ahead, they saw a faint light, just a faint hint and Spencer ducked behind a handy boulder, hating himself for tempting fate. Mariyah flattened herself against the wall, her gun at the ready. He could see her chest moving in a hypnotic rhythm for a few seconds before he realised what he was doing and hastily redirected his gaze to the still unidentified light source. He listened carefully but he couldn't hear anything other than the breathing of the guy on the mic and Mariyah's almost silent breaths. They waited for two maybe three minutes before progressing down the tunnel, every nerve in Spencer's body jumping and ready to draw him down into defensive crouch.

Suddenly Spencer realised just how dangerous this was. Even if there was only one unsub, all it took was two shots and then there would be two dead BAU agents on the floor and there would be no chance of saving the boy. Every sign pointed to the fact that the unsub was highly unstable and a direct confrontation was not to be attempted particularly by junior members without backup and only two guns and maybe thirty bullets between them. That was not an attractive prospect. This went against every single lesson Spencer had ever been taught, hell, every lesson that each and every FBI agent was taught. And now Spencer was going charging in like a reckless fool. Spencer idly quoted inside his head, "There is always some madness in love." By Friedrich Nietzsche. Well then, he had hit the proverbial motherload.

They moved silently together, as the light stayed steady. Mariyah pulled back the slide on her gun and the click sounded deafening in the silent stillness. As they crept closer to the light, Spencer noticed it didn't move. Didn't flicker, move or even have a shadow in it somewhere. It was unnerving. Then when they were only about six feet from the sharp ninety degree corner, which turned left so sharply it was like it had been mined Spencer took a deep breath and waved Mariyah around to his side. They would take what was beyond together, he decided. Since he was the most senior agent physically present he automatically called the shots and Mariyah wasn't objecting. He mentally crossed his fingers and stepped quickly around the corner, "Freeze, FBI!" already on his lips.

Once again it was incredibly anticlimactic. There was no one there and the mysterious 'light' turned out to be just a patch of sunlight from a hole in the ceiling. Spencer felt like slamming his head against the wall. It was like someone else was pulling the strings, letting them get so close then robbing the prize out of their hands.

Beyond the light was a rockfall, and Spencer could see even from the distance he was standing from it, that it was impassable. So much for their big lead. He check his watch. They had just wasted about two hours on a pointless escapade when they could have finding the missing boy. Spencer was sorely tempted to swear but restrained it. It wouldn't help them now.

Together the two of them walked back through the tunnel. And Spencer could hear Morgan practically sniggering in his ear. Evidently Mariyah could hear it too because she reached up and switched off the hearing part of the comm. system. She did not look very impressed.

"Mariyah, I'm sorry." Spencer apologised.

"Why?"

"I dragged you down here-"

"Nah. I'm not angry about that. You didn't drag me down here, it was Agent Hotchner who did. Besides. I agreed. And every lead-"

"Must be fully investigated." The second rule every FBI and equivalent division learnt. The first – The bad guy is never the first guy.

"I just," Mariyah continued, "wanted to find him. I felt like we were so close. Like we were going to crack the case." She waved a hand back at the tunnel and they passed through the door.

"And we found nothing." Spencer finished her thought. They hooked themselves back into harnesses and Mariyah disappeared up the tunnel. Spencer wandered up to the rig and took the rope between his hands. It was old, something they had missed the first time around. The hook in the wall was rusted and old as well. Spencer shook his head as Mariyah's voice appeared though his headphone.

"I'll pull until you get up into the shaft. Do you think you can manage from there?"

Spencer nodded before realising she couldn't see him and said, "I think so. Are you going to be able to pull me up?"

Mariyah merely sighed through the mic. "I'm tougher than I look."

Spencer hung to the rope, and felt his feet lift from the floor and his shoulder slam into the bottom of the shaft, "OW!" he cried into the microphone. His shoulder hurt and Spencer was sure he would have a bruise in the morning.

"Sorry. Try directing yourself." Mariyah gave another grunt as she pulled again. "You're no light weight, you know."

"I'm six feet tall."

"Point taken."

Once his feet were inside the shaft, he started using his hands and feet to push off of tiny ledges and to get into little cracks and actually didn't do half bad, if he said so himself. Considering he rarely did a lot physical activity, and the last time he had done this much had been probably in high school. Before he ditched physical education in favour for advanced chemistry.

Finally, his head popped over the edge of the shaft and there was Mariyah holding onto the rope for grim death. Together they got Spencer out of the shaft and they made their way back to the hole.

Once out, Spencer looked over for Elle and Morgan. They were conspicuously absent and only Hotch and Gideon were in the room along with the fire department. Spencer felt completely stupid but decided against saying anything. No doubt Morgan would spend forever ribbing him about this.

Gideon didn't say anything to them and Hotch merely ordered them back to the hotel to wash and change with the strictest orders to return to the police station under pain of being desk bound for the duration of the case. Not a pleasant thought at the best of times and now certainly wasn't the best of times.

Mariyah didn't say a word as they walked down the stairs. Neither of the two spoke as they opened the gate. It was only when the two of them started the long road that they started talking again. At the same time.

"So Spencer..."

"So Mariyah..."

They looked at each other and Spencer started to snicker. Then Mariyah got the giggles and then Spencer started to chuckles and it went down from there. They were filthy, covered in dust and exhausted and for some reason it was just so funny. So Spencer was staggering around like a drunk and Mariyah was giggling and clutching her ribs. Spencer reached out and brushed away a dead leaf on Mariyah's cheek. She coloured in her cheeks and Spencer decided he could spend all day looking at that expression. They carried on down the drive, choosing to forget the fact there was a demon with a boy to rescue and said boy might be killed and they just chose to have fun.

Mariyah had a pretty little cobweb tilted at just so an angle in her red hair and for the moment Spencer was just happy to laugh and laugh and admire his rather beautiful fellow genius and damn the consequences.

* * *

**Nightanglex18 **– Well, this is what you must know! Sorry to disappoint about the door but wait. If you can predict where the evil lair is, I will give you cookies. (I guarantee you won't).

**Vanillastar** – Well it's nice to love you love it and there you are. One chapter. Vintage 2008.

**Tearbos** – About the drabble thing – I've not got half the time I used to. I might go into later but for now it's on hold for the foreseeable future.

**Foxyladyhubbards** – Well, it's lovely to know there is someone who bears my pain and here you go.

**Twisted Truth** – Lots of darkness is just around the corner if I can get my act together. So nice to know by the way that you like it. And here you are.


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